


Tag

by Boom



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Flash Fic, Gen, children's games adult style, natasha don't need no team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 20:38:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1871691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boom/pseuds/Boom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha's it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tag

**Author's Note:**

> yyyyeaah I woke up at an obnoxious hour and couldn't go back to sleep.

Clint felt the air burn in his lungs, his stride breaking for a millisecond when he heard the sirens before picking up the pace. May and Coulson were running ahead by a good ten feet and he didn’t need to look behind him to know their shadow was gaining. Clint picked up the pace, making it to Coulson a tapping his shoulder, sending the senior agent ducking across the street with seemingly no heed to traffic. Clint dropped back, finally glancing over his shoulder. The patrol car’s lights were flashing, but instead of tailing them it cruised past blocking, at least for an instant, his view of the other side of the street. He’d already seen what he needed to.

“100 yards, black hoodie, purple sneakers. Two minutes to contact,” he called ahead. May took the lead, picking up the pace back to punishing as she made a sharp turn down an ally. Another cop car was dead ahead, lights flashing with no sound. Coulson slid past it, not breaking his stride and scaled the chain link fence behind. May was already on the other side, scouting their exit. Clint put a hand on Coulson’s back when he caught up and they were running down the next street. The third cop car they saw used sirens, driving past just fast enough to pass them slowly. Coulson doubled back, May turned on a dime to keep up and Clint grabbed the nearest wall to slingshot himself around the corner they’d disappeared behind. But he’d gotten too far back. He pushed harder, dragging air through abused lungs even as he realized his mistake. He paused for a second, but it was enough. When he back tracked, Natasha was already ahead of him, slowing down to let him catch up. She wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Sitwell?” he asked through labored breathes, putting his hands on his hips for support.

Nat pushed her black hood off her hair, “Got him 10 minutes ago.”

“Cops his idea?”

“Hill’s,” she smirked, “She thought Coulson had the unfair advantage.”

Clint snorted. He remembered just an hour ago, walking across the bullpen to drop off some paperwork for Coulson only to pause when he saw his handler staring at his best friend. Natasha’s gaze had been still and steady and before Coulson had even turned, he’d known the game was on. He’d passed his paperwork to a junior agent, directing her to take it to Coulson’s office before following him down the hall. He’d tapped Coulson on the shoulder, letting him know his presence, then fell back, watching Coulson build his team. Sitwell had been first, making eye contact just as he was taking a sip of coffee.

“Lose the tie,” Coulson said and Sitwell had snorted, setting his cup on an empty desk. May had been next, just a call over Coulson’s shoulder had her rising to follow. Hill, however, had seen them coming. She’d made brief eye contact with Coulson, then studiously ignored him as he passed. Coulson had frowned, but kept walking. They made it to the parking garage before anything changed. Clint had been dressed for workout, so he took point while the rest got ready, shedding ties and jackets as they walked, tossing them in Sitwell’s car as they passed and Coulson once more took the lead.

“Where to?” Clint had asked.

Phil shrugged, “Diner on 9th sound good?”

There were murmurs of assent all around. Clint grabbed Coulson by the shoulder, gave him a short bruising kiss and let go, watching him take off ahead followed by May and Sitwell while Clint brought up the rear.

“They headed to the Diner on 9th?” Nat asked, bringing Clint back from his thoughts.

“They do have the best pancakes,” he replied earnestly.

Nat hummed, looking down the street, “I think that’s enough of a head start, don’t you?”

Clint’s legs were screaming, he still wasn’t getting full deep breathes and his head was pounding, “Lead on.”

Natasha grinned and took off, Clint right on her heals.

**Author's Note:**

> What to you _mean_ it barely makes sense? What do you _mean_ it sounds like a sleep addled pipe dream? _What are you trying to say_ reader?
> 
> (No but seriously I apologize, this is what happens when I'm awake too early due to over active imagination.)


End file.
